Cellar of my Soul.


Fragments of dreams

like shattered shards of glass

remnants reflected

never to be whole

swept away

into that mental trash bin

while Time, like cosmic dust, seeps through the cracks in my mortality.


Fragments of dreams

like splinters of wood

burrowing into my mind

images left behind like underexposed photographs

stuffed into my subconscious

like snapshots shoved into an overfilled shoe box.


Fragments of dreams

like whispers

delicate as a spider’s web

intangible as a phantom’s touch

emotions swirl in my heart

from a sermon untold

like promises unheard

murky murmurs echoing in the cellar of my soul.



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